The Magic of Macy's
by Me And My Luck
Summary: Emily Fields landed a job at Macy's to help pay her way through school. She never expected to have a blonde coworker by the name of Alison DiLaurentis to waltz her way into her life and plant herself in her heart-but she's not complaining. AKA The Macy's AU nobody wanted.
1. Your Laugh Is the Best Sound

"Excuse me, I've been waiting for five minutes here. Hello?" Emily heard from in front of her.

She snapped her head up to the sound, grimacing. Her coworker, Spencer, walked by and hip checked her into the counter.

"Staring at blondie over there won't sell perfume, Em," she muttered.

Emily glared at Spencer before shooting a fake smile at the clearly irritated customer in front of her.

"Sorry, ma'am. I'll ring that up for you right now," she said, grabbing the woman's purchases.

Spencer was one of Emily's closest friends—they'd worked together for over a year now, trying to pay their way through school. She was incredibly bright, majoring in psychology and passing with flying colors. Emily was grateful for her—Spence helped her out with difficult classes, and they often went out for drinks after work and shit talked the other coworkers. Still, she could deal without the teasing.

Emily had been crushing on Alison DiLaurentis from the Bed and Bath section for months now. When the gorgeous blonde started working a section over, Emily was immediately drawn to her. Ali was fun—when her department wasn't busy, she'd often come over and chat with Emily, people watching and talking about the TV shows they both binged on netflix. As far as Emily could tell, Alison was straight, but Emily knew the saying—everyone is bi until proven otherwise. Either way, she apparently hadn't been as subtle in her affections as she thought because _everyone_ knew about her crush. That is, everyone except for Alison, who remained blissfully ignorant. Spencer had pestered Emily to ask the girl out already, but Emily was always a bit shy. Confidence wasn't her forte.

"Seriously Em, how she doesn't know is beyond me." Spencer pulled the girl out of her reverie, sliding up to the counter next to her.

"She doesn't know and _will never_ know, got it? That goes for both you and the other girls."

"You rang?" Aria said as she walked by, walkie talkie on her hip. Aria worked over in menswear, and also had a shift at a photography studio on the other side of the mall. Emily had seen a lot of her pictures, and they were really good. Sometimes she wondered why Aria still worked there. She never really teased Emily, but occasionally tossed out advice on romantic ways to ask Alison out. She was big on romance. Emily always appreciated Aria's softness when it came to her crush.

"Just saying that Emily needs to suck it up and ask Alison out. Right, Ari?" Spencer asked, nodding repeatedly.

"Emily can do what she wants in her own time. Don't you two have work to do?"

"Ah yes, as you can tell from the long line of customers trying to buy _Divina Eau de Toilette_. Some of these brands have ridiculous names." Spencer rolled her eyes, "Besides, don't _you_ have work to do?"

Aria looked at Spencer pointedly, "My shift is over, duh. I'll be down at the studio if you guys want to meet up and go out later. Emily, don't let her get to you. You are just fine doing this at your pace, alright?" She smiled sweetly at Emily.

Did she mention she loved Aria?

"Thanks, Ar. Take some pretty pictures for me, will you?" Emily asked.

"Sure thing. Later guys." She then took her leave from the store.

"Whatever. Aria's a killjoy. Fine, ruin my fun, whatever." Spencer mumbled, wandering off to the other register. Emily sighed, resting her elbow on the counter in front of her. Ali was over in the bed and bath department talking to customers. Emily giggled as the other girl faked a polite smile, knowing she was bored out of her mind. Alison glanced over at the cashier, giving her a tight-lipped grin she reserved just for her. Emily felt butterflies rush up in her stomach, and looked away trying to contain her smile.

So maybe her crush was really obvious. And maybe she shouldn't be so caught up in this girl. But honestly, she could handle the teasing if it meant she got to see that face every day. Anything was worth that.


	2. Girls Like Girls

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" The sound came from in front of Emily, who beamed at the melodic voice coming from the girl standing not two feet away from the counter.

"Hey, Ali. What brings you here?" she questioned, looking up from the cash register at the twinkling blue eyes of the girl in front of her. Ali was wearing her uniform—black pencil skirt, blazer, and a colorful necklace. Emily held on to the idea that she was the only person in the store who could _really_ pull off the weird business-casual thing they had going on. It looked good on her. Well, _everything_ looked good on Alison.

"I'm on break, and so are you as of," she glanced at her watch, "two minutes ago. So, we're going to Buffalo Wild Wings because I'm hungry and you love me," she finished, flashing a puppy dog look that she knew her coworker couldn't resist.

Emily shook her head, blushing slightly at the use of the L word. She could never say no to Alison, even if she wanted to. The hold the blonde had on her was astounding.

"Fine, but you're paying," she surrendered, standing up. Ali squealed, hooking arms with Emily and dragging her off down the mall. Emily knew she would end up paying anyway, but she tried to hold onto as much of her dignity as she could, if she wouldn't do anything at the drop of a hat for her crush.

* * *

"Hey Em. Look," Ali prompted Emily.

"What?" Emily mumbled, engrossed in the menu.

"No, Em, _look,_ " the blonde girl insisted. Finally Emily glanced up—only to crack up laughing.

Alison had a bright yellow and orange paper crown on her head that read "WING MAN" across the front in a large, white font. Emily knew the restaurant provided these hats but it looked absurd on Ali. She was always so immaculate—beauty and grace seemed to just flow from head to toe on her. But when Emily saw a giant, lopsided hat on her head, especially one with such a goofy phrase on it, Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it out. I'm hilarious. Let me put yours on," Ali reached over to grab the crown labeled "WING NUT" and Emily bowed her head to let her place it on top. After making sure it would stay on, Ali slowly let her hands fall down the sides of Emily's face and arms to lightly grab her hands, which were resting on the table between the pair.

"You look good." She commented. Emily rolled her eyes, blushing cherry red at the soft touch.

"I look like a dork," she mumbled, but Ali smirked.

"A _very cute_ dork," the blonde corrected, patting her hand. "So," she changed the subject, "what are you getting?"

"Probably this pepperoni five-cheese-flatbread thing. I've had it before. You?"

"Hmm," Ali thought out loud, "I'm gonna go with the usual wings. Mild, so we can share—you like mild, right?" Emily nodded. "Good. Then you better not be surprised when I steal some of that flatbread pizza. It looks good."

Emily opened her mouth to say something, but the waiter came before she could speak. _HELLO, MY NAME IS greg_ , his nametag read in a messy scrawl. Emily thought he looked like a Greg, as he took their orders awkwardly.

"How's bed and bath these days?" Emily asked, making small talk.

"Oh, you know; beds, baths, the usual," Ali said, quirking her lips up into a side smile. Emily adored that smile, secretly relishing in the fact that she seemed to be the only person on the receiving end of it. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that Ali was still talking.

"—would be nicer if you worked in my section, but you know. Can't complain about seeing that face from afar every day," she finished. The tanned girl felt butterflies bubble up in her stomach. As confident that she was that her crush remained completely oblivious to her affections, sometimes Emily wondered if maybe, just maybe, Ali felt the same way.

"I could say the same thing about you. You know—," once again she was cut off by the waiter. She very nearly glared at the boy—tall, gangly, and freckle-faced, he couldn't have been over the age of seventeen. The grumbling in her belly won out, however, and she instead took a bite of her dinner. The two ate in silence for a bit, grabbing bites of each other's meals before starting up another conversation.

One of their preferred pastimes was people watching. Alison, who was majoring in journalism, was an avid storyteller. Emily, on the other hand, just thought it was fun, not to mention how much she enjoyed the sparkle in Alison's eyes as she came up with outlandish tales about the various people who wandered the mall.

"Okay, get this—that guy over there, in the gabardine suit? Spy."

"Spy?" Emily questioned her reasoning. Ali nodded, expanding on her story.

"An American spy, but he's watching that woman over there. Tall, posh, in a Burberry jacket. She's British. They're enemies, but secretly lovers, both acting as double agents on the secret societies they're in. They're planning to run away together and live out their days in Paris," she resolved.

If there's one thing Alison never failed to do it was surprise Emily. Sometimes she thought her coworker would be better off as an author as opposed to a journalist, but Alison maintained that she wanted to find the truth and write about it. Emily admired her passion for the pen. In fact, it reminded her of her own love for swimming.

"Be careful, his bowtie might actually be a camera. Maybe they're watching us—commit any crimes lately?" she asked.

Alison winked, "If I told you I'd have to kill you," and laughed. "What do you think of Paris, Emily? Ever been?"

"No, never. I'd like to go though. I hear it's beautiful, and I've seen a lot of pictures. With my student loans I'll be lucky if I ever end up on a vacation to the Jersey shore," she groaned.

"I'll take you, one day, when I'm a famous journalist and you're a world champion swimmer," Ali decided, "you and me in sweet Paris. How does that sound?"

"I think I'd like that. How long would we go for?"

"Forever. How else would I see how good you look on top of the Eiffel tower?" Ali said, almost flirtatiously, as she sipped her glass of cherry coke. Emily couldn't hold her grin in at that. Alison compliments were the best compliments.

Alison signaled for the check, which their fumbling waiter took a full two minutes to get to them. As the Greg returned to the table, Emily gestured to herself, "give me the check, I'm paying-," only to be interrupted by Ali.

"No, I'm paying. I told you I'd pay!" Ali fought playfully, but both girls knew she would admit defeat eventually.

"Yeah, not gonna happen. Kid, hand it over," she tried again. The poor boy looked terrified—he probably wasn't used to this. Then again, most people weren't used to their banter.

"No way. I dragged you here. Em, come on," she dragged out the last syllable. Emily rolled her eyes, raising an eyebrow at the waiter. Call her old fashioned, but the tanned girl was raised a gentlewoman.

"As if. I've got it. You can pay next time," she reasoned, even though she knew that wouldn't happen either.

Alison crossed her arms and pouted, but Emily could see she was holding back a smile.

The acne-riddled boy shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably before he finally handed the check to Emily and stuttered, "Uh, enjoy your date, I guess," before he ambled away.

"Oh, no, we're not-," Emily interjected, but the boy had already walked away.

"Is the idea of a date with me that bad? I'm hurt." Ali feigned offense.

Emily immediately shook her head, "No, of course not. I only meant, uh," she panicked, but Alison laughed, dissipating any tension.

"I'm messing with you. Come on, we have to get back to work. Thanks for the lovely _date_ ," Ali teased, winking and emphasizing the last word before waltzing to the door. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and looked back at Emily expectantly. "Coming?" she asked.

Emily jumped out of her frozen state and ran after Ali, holding the door open for her. "After you, Al."

The two girls walked arm in arm towards their workplace, chatting and giggling the whole way.

 _Maybe Spencer isn't always wrong,_ Emily's lips quirked up at the thought, _this could work out._


End file.
